


a light that comes from what we know inside

by sybilius



Series: graveyard harlequins [1]
Category: Helvetica (Webcomic)
Genre: Alcohol, Characters shipping other characters, Christmas fic, Cuddling, Dinner Party, Discussions of death, Explicit Language, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Hanukkah Fic, Hostess Gifts, I mean you know the fandom you're reading right, Jewish Characters, M/M, Memories, Multi, Polyamorous Negotiations, Polyamory, Skeletons, Yuletide fic, cute shit, discussions of life, very mild angst, well it's all and none of these
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 08:21:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16615361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sybilius/pseuds/sybilius
Summary: Autumn wanted to write a perfect Yuletide story. The one she found wasn't in any book she'd ever read.





	a light that comes from what we know inside

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello, hello! 
> 
> This is without a doubt the fastest fic I have ever written! I found Helvetica less than four days ago and binged the whole thing (we are bereft by its length but blessed by its presence) (also if you haven't read it you should check it out! It's a short read). I also really badly wanted to write a Christmas fic, so the stars aligned between wanting more content for these sweethearts, and wanting a fandom with an appropriate tone for a saccharine sweet fic. 
> 
> For those who have read the comic, I imagined this taking place at some not too distant time after the events of Chapter 2, after they're all resolved. I haven't picked any particular resolution in case canon picks up again or people have headcanons. 
> 
> Note for historical purposes (if we are ever blessed with more Helvetica!), I wrote this after the comic was up to pg99. So apologies if this has become out of date for characterizations. 
> 
> I wrote some notes on how I see 'Yule’ in the Helvetica world at the end. 
> 
> The fic title is from the Sufjan Stevens song “Christmas in the Room” which I highly recommend listening to before or after reading the fic. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Death Valley was just as arid and bright in the winter sunset as it was at any other time of year. Not that it stopped the residents, especially those with a little extra money, from putting a little seasonal color into the mix.

Autumn skipped over the piles of synthetic white fluff on the pavement, the bouquet in her arms wafting up its floral scent. The “snow” was probably some kind of fake cotton. It was a better investment than last year, when someone had the bright idea to use snow machines that melted almost the minute they hit the sky. She’d thought she’d caught a flake on her finger, but that turned out to be ash from someone’s outdoor fire.

They could light fires though. One of the perks of being dead was you couldn’t feel the heat of Death Valley, which meant adding more was just for the look of it. And it looked good-- the small skating rink under a dome almost like a snowglobe, the firepits with small benches framed with lights amidst the fake mounds of snow, the bright green wreaths on the lamp posts -- all of Cervical Square looked pretty darn festive.

She caught sight of herself in the lobby-window, adjusting the bow on her clean white skull. Making sure the holly was visible. Should she have put mistletoe on? Was that too desperate? Goodness knew (Good Heavens _knew_ ), that at least Helvetica was going to be at this dinner party. And there had to be other cute boys there, right?

Or better yet, mysterious gentlemen. Yes, Autumn straightened up, her eyes narrowing, someone who could set off another mystery. One that she could use for inspiration to start her literary opus. Why, it could be that shadowy figure she imagined in the window glass, another skeleton approaching in a familiar green coat...

“Lucy!” she turned, too surprised to put on her dame persona. She cocked her hip, play it cool, “So. What are you doing on the nice side of town?”

“Hey, sugarplum,” he lit up a cigarette, same as ever, his camera bag slung over his shoulder, “Looking like a dancing vision for Yule. All dressed up for Heavens’ party?”

“Ooh, you are good,” she blushed, almost impressed -- unless, “Wait, did he invite you too?”

“He invites me every year. Claims it’s out of good will, but I’m pretty sure it’s out of spite. And I come to smoke on his doorstep,” he grins around the cigarette, “we've always had our petty games."

“But you’re coming this year, right?” certainly it was the first time Autumn had been invited. He squinted at her, blowing smoke to the side. Clove cigarettes. Taste was strange after death, almost like smell and taste had gotten tied up into each other.

Not for the first time, Autumn wondered what it would taste like to kiss him.

“Let’s just say I went to the trouble of finding out who’s on the guest list,” he smirked, tilting his head towards the door.

“Who, little old me?” she baited, enjoying their usual repartee. Though she was feeling a little breathless at the thought of Lucy being her Yuletide kiss.

“Heh. Helvetica,” he said it sardonically, looking down at the faux-snow. But something in it made her stop short, wondering if he was serious.

“He is coming, right?” she cringed at the hopefulness in her voice, she shouldn’t let her guard down so easily. Not around her muse. But when Lucy turned, there was none of the usual sarcasm in his gaze.

“Course he'll be there. In fact,” he gestured with his cigarette, “Speak of the devil.”

Helvetica was carrying a gold gift bag, still looking up at the skaters inside the snowglobe-like rink. He was wearing the suit he'd worn when Autumn had met him, the one that hugged his torso in all sorts of pretty lines. Autumn suspected Good Heavens had bought it for him, when he'd been green and new almost a year ago. Well, he'd gone far beyond newbie now.

Still taking in the skaters, Helvetica walked right past them and almost straight into the window. Mmm, maybe he was still a little green. Lucy caught him by the shoulder, just short of getting a nasty bump to the head.

“Oh!”

“What, you not even gonna say hi, stranger?” Lucy had a gentle ease in his voice.

“Lucy! Autumn!” his cheeks flushed a pleasant pink, as his eyes lingered on...wait a minute, who was it he was looking at?

“Y-you look very dapper, ‘Vetica,” she snapped her jaw shut on the stutter.

“Oh, you look lovely as well,” he was blushing to her then, but he turned to Lucy, “Are you wearing something festive for the occasion?”

“Hah! You think I'd go to that stuck-up bastard’s 'soiree’?”

“Did he not invite you?” Helvetica's voice turned angry, “I thought you were all made up! Water under the bridge, didn't he say? Why would he--”

“Relax, 'Vet,” Lucy was wistful, “I'm just being an ass. He invites me every year. I never go. That's it.”

“Well, you're going this year,” Autumn said firmly, her mind made up.

“Says who, sweetheart?”

“Both of us!” Helvetica took the cue well, grabbing Lucy's arm. The two of them frog-marched him to the door, with only minor grumblings from Lucy about keeping up a reputation. She knew they had him when he'd dropped his cigarette by the door.

Still, as they held onto him on either side from the gold art-nouveau elevator, Autumn caught Helvetica sidelong glancing at Lucy, before he broke off his gaze and smiled at her.

Could it be that after all those slyly shared milkshakes, the case-chasing, him listening patiently to her ramble about her latest story idea-- could it be that Helvetica ...played for the other team?

Autumn was a little disappointed, sure, but boy! This story was better than any detective romance she'd thought up, including the ones that were thinly veiled incarnations of herself and Lucy. This was a heart melting slow-burn romance between the beautiful, self-destructive, old world romantic detective and the loyal, good-natured, enduring sidekick. A romance as old as...as Watson and Holmes!

She was so pleased with herself she almost missed the squeeze Lucy gave her arm when they reached Good Heavens’  elegant blue door. The space between her ribs gave a flip.

The music was already audible from through the door. Lucy sighed, “Alright, you two have had your fun, but--”

Helvetica gave a firm knock, keeping a grip that Lucy couldn't seem to struggle out of, whether he was trying hard to or not.

“We're just about to have our fun. And you're going to, too.”

Sometimes, Helvetica was just perfect. Perfect for Lucy, Autumn reminded herself of the story she was telling. The door opened, revealing Mr. Good Heavens himself, in a fine tailored Herringbone suit with a bright red-and-green bow tie and a Santa hat.  

“Welcome, guests, dear, honored friends--” he stopped short, blinking at Lucy, “Lucille.”

“Stop gawping Heavens, I'm just seeing these two up-- “

“He's with us,” Helvetica said firmly, marching him into the vestibule, the sweet and savory smells of dinner already overpowering.

“Well, I am glad to see you,” Good Heavens stumbled on his words, “I assure you, my intentions were genuine this year. What better time than Yule to bury the hatchet--”

“Don’t go getting sentimental on me this early in the night, I won't survive it,” Lucy grunted, although the door had already been closed behind him.

“Well. Well, let me take your jacket, then,” Good Heavens whisked away the dirty green trench coat, to his credit only making a small face of distaste. Lucy _had_ ditched his grey-green shirt for a brighter red one, which meant the bastard had been planning to go all along. Because of Helvetica.

Autumn grinned ear to ear, nudging Lucy towards the main room. This was going to be fun.

The open concept apartment was beautifully decorated, with traditional lit candles glowing on every surface, cotton like the outside fluff that sparkled in a way that seemed almost real, and a tall evergreen in the corner of the room, decorated with silver and gold. There were a few others milling about that Autumn didn't recognize, and of course, the man in the corner of the couch wearing a matching Santa hat and a false white beard.

“Steak!” Autumn broke off from dragging Lucy along to hug him. She presented him with the bouquet she'd been carrying, Christmas roses, holly, springs of baby's breath.

“Aww, man, Autumn! You really shouldn't have!” Steak waved the bouquet about. She smiled ear to ear at his pleased sniff. Ever since he'd given her that interview about his gang history she'd felt quite grateful to him, “Do you guys need drinks? We've got a mulled cider.”

“Sounds wonderful to me,” Helvetica smiled warmly, “it's good to see you.”

“You too, kid-- Well, well, look what the undertaker dragged in,” Steak sized up Lucy with a grin, then clapped him on the back, “Good to have you, Lucy.”

“Mm, it'd be better with a drink.”

“Alright, Scrooge, hold your horses,” he made his way towards the cinnamon and apple smell wafting towards the kitchen.

Autumn perked up, hearing a slow, smoky drawl come on the speakers, “Oh! This is my favorite Yuletide song.”

Ella Fitzgerald's classic, ‘What are you doing New Year's?’ She glanced sidelong at Lucy, unashamed to admit that she'd imagined herself as a crooning dame singing to her beautiful, unavailable detective muse...

“It's not bad,” he said, which felt like high praise.

“What's your favorite?” Helvetica blinked curiously at Lucy. Autumn grinned. This dialogue was writing itself!

“Mm. ‘And So This is Christmas’.”

“The war song?”

“Yeah,” Lucy looked like he was going to go for a cigarette, but thought better of it, “You ever feel like music -- it makes you feel things. Things that almost feel like they could be connected to another life, you know. Another death, who the hell knows what came before this, huh?”

Autumn considered this, watching the way the candle flames danced on the mantle to the slow bassline. It didn't quite have the same kind of bullshit as Lucy’s usual dramatic monologues. Part of it felt almost true. Certainly she felt something just beneath her ribs when she heard the lyric 'I'd be the one you chose’.

“You’re saying you used to be a soldier?” Helvetica asked it so softly. Autumn melted like a snowflake on the tongue.

“Maybe. Maybe I used to be a deserter,” he gestured in a futile way, “But I do know that music feels a lot more real than staring into that lake."

  
“You’re right about that,” Helvetica said, just as Steak returned with the warm cups of cider. It was strong stuff -- Autumn took a few slow sips, pacing herself. Lucy, as expected, gulped it down, gasping at the heat of it.  

“Do you have a favorite Yuletide song, Steak?” Autumn asked.

Steak pulled off the beard to take a draught of the cider, “Green Christmas.”

“Tch, he's lying,” Good Heavens swept by, giving Steak a pat on the shoulder. Autumn once again congratulated herself on calling their relationship easily. She _was_ a good detective, damn it. Heavens smiled, “His favorite is ‘Light One Candle’.”

“Eh tu, brutay. Well I'm sure you can guess Mr. Fancy-Pants here loves 'Oh Holy Night’.”

“And 'Silver Bells’...and 'It Came Upon a Midnight Clear’,” Good Heavens tutted, “it's so hard to pick a favorite.”

“Oh, before I forget, I brought this for you guys,” Helvetica awkwardly presented them with the gold bag, “it's just candy.”

“Oh that's very thoughtful of you -- oh my stars! Bone-bones!”

“Steak said they were your favorite,” Helvetica scratched the back of his head, “thanks for inviting me.”

“Oh you're so welcome, my dear boy.”

Just as it occurred to Autumn that Lucy might feel a little out of place without a housewarming gift of his own, he reached into his camera bag and pulled out a large foiled-wrapped package. Autumn's jaw dropped. He passed it to Steak.

“Sufganiyot. Thought you might like some one of these years,” Lucy said gruffly, “Better late than never, right?”

“Yeah, uh. Wow. Thanks Lucy,” Steak seemed genuinely touched. Heavens smiled, squeezing his shoulder.

“I'll put that in the kitchen to serve with dessert. Thank you, Lucille.”

“Don't mention it,” Lucy hid whatever expression was on his face in another draught of cider, “So what about you, 'Vet? You got a favorite?”

“Christmas in the Room,” he said, without hesitation.

Autumn blinked, “I've never heard of that one.”

“Can't say I have either, 'Vet. But I'm pretty sure Heavens has access to every piece of music that's ever been made, so if you want to show us…”

“Sure, I'd like that.”

Autumn stayed back to study the tree while Lucy and Steak bantered over how to use Spinify. Maybe let Lucy and Helvetica talk a little. The colors really were beautifully curated, all the way up to the glimmering star at the top. Pretty things. Autumn felt echoes in her hip bones when she looked at that star, as if at one point she would call it something other than just a pretty thing. Then the gentle tone of acoustic guitar came on, a soft, ethereal male voice. Singing about Yule, but so-- simply.

“It's lovely,” she joined Lucy and Helvetica, a happy burst in her chest when she saw the fond way Lucy was nodding his head to the music.

“I-- um. I sometimes dance to it, if you wanted to,” Helvetica gestured at... Autumn. She blushed.

“Um, do you want to dance with me -- or,” she bit her tongue, don't say anything stupid or obvious, “I'd love to dance with you.”

That wasn't a lie, too, she wanted Helvetica to put his arm around her, wanted to put her hand on his shoulder and smile gently as she started the slow step. Her bones felt like they were sparkling like the tree --

No, no this wasn't how the story was supposed to go. She was supposed to be helping Lucy and Helvetica get together, or sneaking kisses with Lucy under the mistletoe, or losing herself in Helvetica's big round eyes--

Focus, Autumn, focus! The song was finishing up, Helvetica twirled her for the last slow 'like it's Christmas in the room’. She turned back to Lucy before she could stop herself and he had the saddest tiny smile on his face. Goddamn it.

“Everyone! Dinner is served!”

She broke off from her dance, still loosely holding Helvetica's arm, “Thanks, uh, you're a good dancer.”

“You too,” but he wasn't looking at her now, he had spotted Lucy, and the regret flashed over his face.

Now this she could work with.

“Come on,” she grabbed Lucy's arm before she could fully make a decision, maneuvering the three of them to sit in the corner where Lucy and Helvetica could talk, look into each other's eyes, and maybe get thrown under the mistletoe, who knows what could happen!

Grinning at Helvetica and Lucy, she turned her attention to the dinner. It was a sumptuous feast, the table laid heavy with a carved turkey (Steak’s doing, no doubt), overflowing bowls of stuffing and mashed potatoes, a pile of brown-crispy balls that she thought might be latkes, spiced red cabbage. And all of it being passed with smiles by candlelight, while Good Heavens flitted among the guests, pouring wine and champagne.

Lucy’s chair shifted a little closer to her end of the table, as he glanced back and forth, shoulders tight. She had gotten used to being a little physically close with him in the year or so they’d known each other. So much so that she’d forgotten he avoided being close to strangers.

Well, that was probably a bit of an understatement, he was downright jumpy with new people sometimes.

“Lucy,” she leaned in close, trying to ignore the shiver along the space where her spine would have been, “Switch places with me?”

“What?” he said, still focused on his neighbor’s elbow. She jerked her head. He blinked in relief, “Uh, sure, whatever you want, sweetheart.”

And if, in the swap, it so happened that Lucy was also sitting elbow-to-elbow with Helvetica as well as her, well, that was just a nice coincidence then, wasn’t it. He looked a little more relaxed, almost blushing when she touched his wrist gently.

“M’alright,” he said, taking a bite out of the turkey.

“We did kind of strong-arm you into this,” Helvetica said gently, “You sure you’re doing okay?”

“Fit as a fiddle,” he took a sip-- a small, classy sip -- of the red wine Heavens had poured him. Autumn figured that was an okay sign. Probably.

The dinner tasted as wonderful as it looked, though, rich and creamy potatoes and sweet, tangy cabbage paired with the perfectly cooked meat and gravy. Autumn struck up a conversation with her neighbor, to give Lucy and Helvetica a chance to talk about Helvetica’s work at the library -- and their post-death relationship to Yule. A perfect chance to share nostalgia for the life that neither of them remembered. A hubbub was just starting to build when the sound of metal on crystal rang out over the table, and Good Heavens stood up.

“Honored guests, my dear, dear friends,” Good Heavens began, fanning himself with a hanky, “I am so grateful to have you in my death for another year, celebrating the winter together. Celebrating many things about our death. Sometimes Yule brings together the things which echo, which flicker like candlelight giving us glimpses of our former lives.”

He tilted his head to the window, where an ornate menorah sat, its nine candles already burned down from days before. Seeing the menorah wasn’t quite the same for Autumn as looking at the tree, hearing certain songs. But she could tell from the soft smile on Steak’s usually serious face that it meant quite a bit to many others. Even Lucy seemed fond, though his smile was more pensive. Melancholic.

“As much as our former lives haunt us, ghosts in our bones that cage us and confound us-- death has given us something new. Death gave us each other, and we are not ghosts. We are here, for each other, whatever the new year does bring. A toast! To friends, old, and new.”

“Hear, hear,” Steak said, banging his glass on the table. Good Heavens mumbled something that may have been ‘watch the linens’, but he looked fond.

Lucy shook his head, “Sentimental old bastard.”

“Oh, come on, all you’d have to do is dress down the fancy words a little and it could be one of your monologues!” Autumn teased, leaning in to smell the cheap cologne he uses more or less just for the effect. It had always been intoxicating.

Lucy pressed his mouth together, taking a drink of the wine, “I didn’t say he didn’t have a point.”

“So you admit you’re having fun then.”

The shadows from the candles danced temptingly across his hollow cheeks, “Fun is only part of the greater plan, Cupcake.”

“And what is this great plan, oh great detective,” she sipped her wine, uncurling her fingers when he went to speak, “No wait, start at the _beginning_.”

“The beginning. You mean when a smart little green-boned dame walked into my office with a notepad, legs that went all the way down, and a pretty little smile that meant trouble?”

“Oh, you flatterer,” Autumn played it cool, but it was harder to, outside of the curated aesthetic of his office, outside of dim light filtered through blinds and the taste of cigarette smoke to remind herself what she was playing with. No, no she was playing the wrong role here, _again_ \--

“I guess the plan is just you, Autumn,” he blinked, the facade slipping for a moment. Oh _no_ , and this was where she _should_ kiss him, kiss him if they weren’t in a room full of people while Helvetica --

She snapped her head forward, but Helvetica was just watching them fondly, almost wistfully. Her face softened. When she turned back to Lucy, he had leaned back in his chair, ever the enigma again. Bastard.

This evening really wasn’t going as planned.

As the plates were cleared, Autumn wondered how she could salvage the night with...someone. This was getting more complicated than she’d thought. None of the usual endings were happy ones for someone. And not that Autumn didn’t love a good literary heartbreaker but -- not when it happened to Lucy or Helvetica.

Good Heavens brought out a towering trifle, and set out the bone-bones that Helvetica had brought, along with a plate of what looked like slightly squashed powdered doughnuts.

Autumn took one of the donuts gingerly, “Are these su- suf--”

“Yeah,” Lucy turned down the donuts, taking a small scoop of the trifle instead.

“Oh, my dear Lucille, these are wonderful! You must tell me the name of the bakery you got them from,” Good Heavens dabbed the jam from his cheek daintily.

“Don’t fawn, Heavens. Anyways. I made them, one of the only things I can make, but they’re good enough to eat for a month.”

“Hell, you made these?” Steak let out a low whistle, “Didn’t know you could cook.”

“I can’t. But you’d be surprised what you can do with a hot plate. Sometimes the recipe feels like muscle memory. Yuletide ghosts, right?” he gestured, enjoying the theatrics.

“Wait, if you were so insistent you weren’t going to come to this party, Mister, then why did you bother packing a homemade batch of donuts, huh?” Autumn teased.

“It’s not like I don’t do the same thing every year, in case I actually get myself up here for once--” he shot out, and then squeezed his eyes shut, the room falling to something of a confused silence, “Look, just, um. Forget I said that.”

Oh, but it was far too late for that.

The story sketched out in her mind, every year, lonely detective makes enough donuts for an entire party, every year, stands outside the door, smokes a single, spiteful cigarette, thinking about showing that good-for-nothing that he’s good for _something_ , then he goes home and drinks alone on Yuletide. Autumn took a careful bite of her donut, the jam sticking to her finger-bones. Everyone else seemed to have pieced together at least _part_ of the story.

Steak cleared his throat, “Well, they’re great sufganiyot, Lu. Sorry you’re such a sad sack.”

“Thanks, Steak. Saves me eating them for dinner every day for two weeks again.”

“The trifle is lovely too,” Helvetica piped up, ever the diplomat.

“Well, thank you,” Good Heavens said, and the room began to pick up a murmur of conversation again. The south end of the table ate their dessert in silence, with Helvetica stealing concerned looks at Lucy, who was determinedly staring at his trifle.

“Shit, why did I say that,” Lucy said, barely under his breath. The guests were starting to get up from the table, clearing their plates and milling about in the main room. He pushed himself upward, and then staggered slightly, straight into Helvetica’s arms.

“I think -- you might be a little drunk,” Helvetica slid his arm under Lucy’s, staring into his eyes, and _oh my god_ , maybe Autumn hadn’t ruined everything after all. _Yes_.

“Fuck me. He’s right,” Lucy half laughed, turning to Autumn. She laughed too, supporting Lucy on the other side.

“We’ve got you."

“Mhm that -- I should go--”  
  
“Not without us,” Helvetica said firmly, “We’ll make sure you get home.” 

“You’re good,” he said simply, looking down at Helvetica with stupid, drunken adoration. Okay, maybe Autumn’s story could do with editing out the stupid drunkenness, but hey, it was a start!

“Do you have him? I’ll go get his coat,” Autumn said gently to Helvetica.

Helvetica nodded, “Meet you by the door.”

Good Heavens helped her find the coat, set aside on top of a beautiful bed laden with a few other fashionable jackets.

“And you’ll...take care of him? I do so worry?” Good Heavens pressed his fingers together, “I had no idea he was -- well, I didn’t know what he did with his Yuletide, to be perfectly honest with you.”

“We’ll take care of him, don’t worry,” she hugged Lucy’s coat close to her. It smelled like him, all sweat and cheap cologne and a bit of booze. Comforting, “Best not to say goodnight to Lucy, I think he might make a scene.”

“Oh that much we do agree on, though let him know I hope he’s well.”

“I will.” when he was sober, she decided.

“You’re very good people, all three of you. No matter what past I had with Lucy--”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said gently. This was one mystery she could close the door on-- for now, “Thank you, and...happy Yuletide.”

“And to you, my dear.”

The cab they took out of the Cervical Court immediately turned the opposite direction she expected, away from the Vertebral district. She turned to Helvetica, who, the Yuletide ghosts be praised, was adjusting Lucy into leaning on his shoulder.

“Where are we going?” she whispered.

“Just. Back to my apartment. It’s late and -- I don’t know, I don’t want to leave him back at his apartment. It’s so depressing. You think it’s a bad idea?”

Her chest felt as if it might burst with the unexpected warmth, “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

This was the part where she should say ‘I’ll just head on after, can you take him from here?’.  Then she could stay up all night imagining, writing the literary masterpiece of Lucy and Helvetica confessing their feelings for each other. It would be easy to slip away. She could make an excuse about meeting a friend in the morning.  

But all the people who she wanted to see were _here_. And they were real, and maybe, just maybe she could admit she was part of this story too. Against her better judgment, she rested her head on Helvetica’s other shoulder. She could almost feel him smiling.

When the car pulled up in front of Thoraic Court, Lucy raised his head blearily. Autumn hurried to his other side while Helvetica paid the driver. They walked quietly to Helvetica’s door, laughing occasionally at Lucy’s inane drunk mumblings.

“My bed can fit two, so you and Lucy take the bedroom. I’ll sleep on the couch,” Helvetica said it so carefully, like he’d been rehearsing the words on the cab ride home.

“Oh no, I can’t -- I don’t want to impose this way, I mean, I’m not drunk,” Autumn backpedaled, now unsure of her decision.

“I’m drunk,” Lucy mumbled, and Helvetica patted his head with a small ‘we know’. 

“Listen, when he wakes up, Autumn. I think he’s going to need you,” he said seriously, “I mean. Maybe he’ll need both of us.” 

She sighed, watching the way Helvetica’s concerned gaze lingered on Lucy, “Okay, I’ll stay on one condition.

“What’s that?”

She took a breath, hoping it wasn’t a wrong gamble, “I’ll take the couch. You and Lucy take the bed.”

He blushed almost to the top of his skull, “If-- if that’s what you want. Um, help me get him into the bedroom”

Jackpot.

They walked him together to the bedroom, which Helvetica had only recently finished decorating in neat shades of bright blue. The left hand side table was overflowing with books, mostly history. She laid Lucy down on the right side of the bed, while Helvetica went to get a glass of water. He blinked, smiled at her, “Autumn. Autumn, you’re. You’re the dame.”

“Drink this, you ridiculous dork,” she offered him the glass of water that Helvetica gave her, shaking her head fondly. He took a few gulps of the water, then seemed to notice Helvetica sitting on the bed next to him.

“Oh, Vet, you’re here,” he grabbed Helvetica’s arm, then smiled, “That’s good.”

“I’m here, Lucy,” Helvetica tilted his head tenderly, and Autumn just about died. She got up then, not wanting to be a wedge between them, this time ignoring the slight pain in her ribs that protested. This was what they wanted. It was what they deserved.

Helvetica followed her to the bedroom door. When she turned back, she could see in the dim light Lucy already closing his eyes. Helvetica loosened his bow tie, looking absolutely charmingly tousled. They really were going to be the death of her, both of them.

“I think he’s gonna be okay,” Helvetica said, “I hope so.”

“He always is,” she shook her head, leaning on the door frame, one hand on the knob. She liked to imagine she was silhouetted in the light from the other room. 

“And you’re gonna be okay on the couch, you sure?” his eyes were so wide, so earnestly caring. Whatever ghost was where her heart used to be caught her right then and there.

She didn’t think. She just leaned forward and kissed him, ever so softly, the phantom of their old flesh shimmering between them for a blessed half-second.

“Yes, I’ll be fine. Take care of him.”

And then she closed the door, so she wouldn’t have to look at Helvetica’s wide-eyed confusion.

That was selfish. Selfish and messy and she’d have to write it out in the rewrites and --

But maybe it wasn’t all that bad.

She was here after all, she hadn’t gone home, and though she’d shut the door for now -- she wasn’t sure what the morning after would bring.

Helvetica’s house had a gas fireplace, easy enough to turn on. She tugged a fluffy blanket and pillow from the couch and curled into the thick rug. She’d always liked sleeping on hard surfaces. Who knows if that was something she knew in life or only in death.

Her eyes lingered on the door. Perhaps she’d be woken by Helvetica’s sweet kiss that she’d stolen, him whispering that she was the love of his death, no wait--

Perhaps she’d wake Lucy up with soft words, promises to keep him safe, they’d both never be alone again, but who would that leave alone--

Perhaps she’d wake to a happily coupled Helvetica and Lucy -- and that -- that was what she wanted, wasn’t it?

She fell asleep knowing the ending wasn’t quite right.

She was woken to a soft hand on her back, much like at least a few of her swirling fantasies. She opened her eyes, smiling in spite of herself at Helvetica hunkered down on the floor.

“Morning.”

“Good morning. Is Lucy--”

“Still asleep. I think,” Helvetica smiled softly, then his smile faltered. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, “Do you -- want breakfast? I can make pancakes?”

That wasn’t the question he wanted to ask, she could tell. But she still ...couldn’t figure out the ending, goddamnit. She broke his gaze, “Yeah, um. I’ll go wake Lucy up. Gently.”

“Sounds good,” he pulled away from her, then seemed to think better of it, and dropped a kiss on her skull.

Autumn waited until he was in the kitchen to bury her head in the pillow. Outside of the glow of Good Heavens’ party (maybe she was a little drunk herself? Or out of her mind), this was such a _mess_.

Well. Time to bring in the detective to make it even messier.

Despite being sprawled out in the bed in a white tank top and the pants he wore the night before, Lucy still managed to look elegant, devastatingly tempting. Autumn sighed, willing herself to make the right choice, and sat down on the bed just next to his leg.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” she nudged his shoulder. His eyes flickered open, staring up at Autumn blearily.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said mechanically, and then did something she didn't expect.

He pulled her down for a kiss.

It was clumsy at first, since she didn’t expect it, but oh, he kissed just like she’d imagined he would, desperate and almost like he could put the breath of life back into her. His breath tasted like cloves and cinnamon, and he smelled at once dangerous and safe, like coming home to the story she’d always known--

Shit. She pulled away, a hand to her mouth, “What about Helvetica?”

Lucy blinked again, then squeezed his eyes shut like something painful had wormed its way into his head, “Uh-- shit. What did I miss last night? Did we-- did we sleep together?”

“N-no, you...you slept with Helvetica,” she was thrown slightly off the bed as he struggled upright, searching the covers for his shirt.

“God, fuck, I’m sorry, I thought we’d-- wait,” he froze, looking at her strangely, “I slept with...Helvetica? And I don’t remember it?”

“Well, I mean, you slept _with_ him but I don’t _think_ you two--”

“Oh. _Oh_ , now this -- okay.”

“Putting it all together, huh, Detective,” she teased gently, then relented, “It’s okay, I’m sure you’ll get to _sleeping_ with him.”

Lucy turned crimson, “That’s-- that’s not, I don’t want to get between you two, I’ll go--”

“No, no, damnit. I’m doing this all wrong,” she sat on his lap to prevent him from running off again, hesitating when she saw him blush even harder, “But you do-- have feelings for him, right?”

“Shit. Fuck. Is it that obvious?” he broke her gaze, but moved his hand to her femur softly.

“No, not at all,” she slipped her hand absently on his bare shoulder, caressing the edge of his clavicle, “I’m just a good detective.”

“Can I just...fuck, sorry, I’m a little too hungover for this.”

“I know the feeling.”

“I can say it right,” he met her gaze, his eyes going steely, “You’ve always been a good detective Autumn. Too good for me. And I’ve always-- I mean, shit. I’m not sorry that I kissed you. I just. I’ve always been bad when it comes to...death and the people in it. I can’t keep it all straight, I just--”

He trailed off, looking miserable. Autumn resisted the urge to make a pun on the word ‘straight’. But this was starting to take shape. All the thoughts and words in her mind were coalescing to something she hadn’t expected. No tropes led here, at least not in the books that she’d read. This would be going off-script. _Way_ off.

But it felt... _right_.

“Hey,” she tilted his head up and kissed him again, properly. He shuddered and it chattered down every bone in his body, “Do you trust me?”

“Uh, sure?”

“With your life-- mmf, death? With your back? With your work, with --” she stopped, composed herself, yes, this was dramatic dialogue, but this was _her_ ending, damnit, “With your heart?”

“With whatever empty space is left there, Autumn.”

“Okay. Come sit with me. I’m going to fix this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going to do what I do,” she pulled him out of bed, holding tight to his hand, and he didn’t let go, “I’m going to tell a story.”

She dragged Helvetica out of the kitchen to sit next to Lucy on the couch. Lucy was stiff-backed and distant, looking nervous as all hell. Autumn knew how he felt. If she still had a heart it would be beating out of her ribcage. She took a deep breath.

“I have a confession to make -- I've ...I've kissed both of you in the past twenty four hours,” she started, then winced at the slightly shocked expression on both of their faces. Too much, too fast? She knew what she had to say--

“Autumn--” Helvetica started gently.

“No, no, let me start at the beginning. Let me tell this story right,” Autumn cut him off, surprised by the steel in her own voice. She turned to Lucy, “A few years ago, but not so many as he'd have us believe, a man died, coming to his death just to the outside of town. That man was a detective. And he let the mystery of life haunt him more than any ghost."

“Then a year or so later came a girl, a storyteller. She was drawn to the detective, his stories and his world weary charm. She loved the character he played from the moment she met him,” her chest ached as she met Lucy's haunted gaze, “She loved _him_ as soon as he let her in enough to know him.”

“Autumn it's-- it's okay--” Helvetica stuttered.

“Don't interrupt--” she said sharply, not wanting to lose the thread of it, “the story isn't over yet.”

She composed herself, turned to Helvetica, sweet, innocent Helvetica, who had a fire in him she'd never expected, “The last character is young -- he's a historian.”

Helvetica made a tiny, confused smile at that. He'd been talking about taking a break from his work at the library to study history for months-- what little history there was for the dead.

“He came into the storyteller and the detective's lives at just the right time. He was kind, and clever, and gentle,” Autumn shook her head at herself, “The story teller fell in love with him so easily, it was a wonder to her how everyone else didn't fall in love with him, too. But someone else...did.”

Lucy tensed on the couch, squeezing his eyes shut before turning to look at Helvetica. Helvetica was staring with something Autumn could only describe as soft wonder. He shifted a little closer to Lucy on the couch. Lucy smiled just the tiniest bit.

God, okay, this really was turning out okay.

“I don't know an ending to this story that ends with all of us happy. I've never read one like that,” she laughed nervously, “but I don't want that to stop us from…trying to love each other any ways we can. So I'm not going to choose either of you-- but. I'd. I'd like it if you chose us. All of us.”

Helvetica stared at Autumn, eyes shining with something like gratitude.

“I'd like that,” he said without hesitation.

“Yeah...I...yeah,” Lucy added, turning to Helvetica with barely concealed terror. Helvetica met his eyes, shifting up on his knees so they were eye to eye on the couch.

“I'm such an idiot, you know,” his hands were balled up in little bone fists.

“No, you're-- that's me,” Lucy shook his head miserably.

Helvetica loosened his fingers, looking Lucy in his hollowed-out eyes  “You know I've had feelings for you since the day you went careening in to Good Heavens’ apartment, trying to save us from those gangsters.”

“Since then? But I...that was so stupid?”

“It really was but...I think it made me realize you were just as haunted by your life as how I felt. And it made me feel less alone.”

“Oh,” Lucy blinked, his eyes wide like he was just seeing Helvetica for the first time. Helvetica shifted closer, put a hand on his neck.

“Lucy-- can I kiss you?”

Autumn very nearly swooned. It wasn't that Helvetica had a way with words but the way he said them was just so _good._ Tentatively, Lucy nodded, and carefully, Helvetica tilted his head to brush his lips, like the drop of soil on a newly formed grave. It was _beautiful._

Lucy's eyes widened as Helvetica pulled back, then he tugged him back in to kiss him like he'd been waiting for it his entire death. When they broke apart, Helvetica was flushed and grinning. Oh this was _perfect._

“You two are _so_ pretty together,” Autumn crowed.

“Pervert,” Lucy teased good-naturedly. Autumn grinned. That sounded almost like the disaffected asshole she knew and loved. She bounded on the couch next to Helvetica, tucking herself under his arm.

“You know I was trying to get you two together for the entire Yuletide soiree? If you hadn't kept flirting with _me_ ,” she teased, nestling her head on Helvetica's shoulder.

“Such a schemer,” Helvetica said fondly, dropping a kiss on her head, “I thought I was getting between you two.”

“Well, no one is going to worry about that anymore,” she caught Lucy's hand that was resting on Helvetica's thigh. Lucy met her eyes, suddenly sad and worn-looking again.

“This feels like a dream but-- the dead don't dream, right?”

“What do you mean?” Autumn asked softly.

“Listen, both of you-- you had to drag my sorry ass from that party, and I just--” he hung his head, “I'm such a mess most of the time. You really wanna do this?”

Autumn was momentarily lost for words, not entirely used to the Lucy that wasn't half pretending to be a detective straight out of a cheap novel. But Helvetica tilted his head, squeezed Lucy's shoulder.

“Yes-- but it could help if you come to see us on Yule instead of...how did Steak put it...being a sad sack with your sufganiyot?”

Lucy laughed a little bit there, the tension melting from his face, “God, 'Vet, you really are good.”

“So are you. But whenever you don't feel that way you can come talk to me...to us. Can you try to?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can. I can do that.”

“So that's a good start.”

Lucy sighed, mumbled something that might have been 'c'mere’, and kissed Helvetica again. He also kissed Autumn's fingertips, one by one, which made her feel every bit like his dame, finally settling with her detective at last. And with his charming sidekick. A happy ending.

“So, what now?” she tilted her head at them both, her chest damn near bursting joy.

“Breakfast?” Helvetica suggested.

“Coffee,” Lucy grunted, “I'm still halfway to hungover.”

“Maybe I'll teach Lucy to dance, later,” Helvetica squeezed both of them close, then got up, the sound of pancakes sizzling on the griddle and the beep of the coffee maker starting. Autumn snuggled into Lucy's side, utterly shameless. The hard part was over. Maybe. Sort of.

“I can do some dancing. Tango, you know,” he waved his hand. “wasn't sure when I started whether I needed a Bond skill set or a Holmes one.”

“And you say I'm trouble,” she teased, “If you tango with me I think I might die on the spot over how perfect that would be. If you tango with _Helvetica--”_

He laughed gently, running his fingers down her cheek to her contented sigh, “Thanks, sweetheart. You really told a perfect story. I'm lucky to have you.”

“Well, you know. The rest of the story is the rest of our deaths,” she smiled, just as Helvetica came back with steaming mugs of coffee, “I can't wait to see how it all turns out."  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Some thoughts on the 'Yule’ holiday. Most cultures and religions have some variant on a winter season holiday. My headcanon (which hopefully you have gathered from reading the fic) is that all the winter holidays are folded together in the death-world, and that the skeletons gravitate towards whatever holidays they celebrated in life, and celebrate them in some time surrounding the solstice, which is 'Yule’. Hopefully everyone's history/past is subtly clear from that ;) 
> 
> Big thanks to dreamsinteacups for vetting a few questions I had about Hanukkah traditions. 
> 
> I had a blast of a time writing this and would absolutely love to hear what you thought of it! Kudos and comments are very welcome. I'm also on tumblr at sybilius.tumblr.com, and my inbox is always open if you want to yell about Helvetica.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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